She Comes By It Honestly

Ahh, the dreaded Storytime Halloween Party: Public Library, Storytellers, Babies -
Preschoolers, Costumes and Candy galore. Sounds like fun, I know, especially seeing as how I am not hosting it and therefore can leave whenever I want (if my kid says it's okay, that is). So why do I look upon it with such trepidation? Well, the reasons are threefold:

1. I will inevitably have to prepare/buy something to bring ala "refreshments", as well as enough goodies for each child's trick or treat bag. This means I will intend to do a baking project with Ryan that will wield adorable little frosted halloween-shaped brownies, but instead, I will end up purchasing a package of Oreos the day before, and feel waves of guilt for being a BAD MOTHER. As for the Goody Bag essentials, they suggest candy, pencils, etc... Hmmm...rooting through old teacher-stuff and...yes! Here we go -- a roll of Alien stickers. Now, I will of course plan on pulling each one apart by their cute little perforated edges, but again, this will get put off until the last minute when, as we a rushing to leave, I will grab said roll and a pair of scissors and cut them in the car on the way over. This brings us to reason #2...

2. The time of this shindig is 10:30 am. Now, I have to factor Jaxson's nap in cause, let's be honest, he is one of my kids -- it's not just Ryan, you know!!! I have been trying very hard to not let her routine mess up his routine wherever possible (and vice versa), but this poses a problem because he is not always up by 10:00, which is when we need to leave in order to park within , oh you know, walking distance. Since I am trying to be even-handed, I will decide to let him sleep until 10, and then it's straight to car seat and car (in my infite wisdom, I will have already dressed him prior to nap-time. Thank God for the "Western Wear" trend -- all I have to do is choose one of his 15 cowboy onesies, a pair of jeans, add Ryan's old cowboy hat, and voila!). Ha. ha ha ha. This does not exactly happen the way I planned -- he wakes up right before 10 (as I am struggling into my fake-juicy velour suit), screaming with (what else?) uncontrollable and unexpected hunger -- ETA was 11:00. Okay. Make bottle, throw makeup into car, grab Ryan, run back into house to get her shoes, throw them in the car, run back into house to answer the phone -- sorry Mom, can't talk now! -- and shriek as I glance at the clock that now reads 10:15. Alrighty...I will do the sticker thing when we get there, and apply my makeup in the car. (These people HAVE to see that I do own makeup and can apply). Cut to me removing glasses (prescription) while driving in order to brush on eyeshadow, mascara, and a smear of lipstick/rouge. Luckily, I have done this before, so we arrive safely, and, incredibly, find a parking spot right out front!! Woo Hoo!! Front Row Joe!!! The morning is beginning to look brighter already! Then as we are walking into the library, Ryan declares, "Just wait Mommy -- they are all gonna start clapping when I walk in. How many people do you think will say I'm beautiful this time?" Shit. *Note to self: must insist Ryan start spending more time in "real world"...*

3. My child has no idea that most people don't have their own personal cheering squads following them around everywhere they go. She, however, usually does. She is blessed with being the first and only grandaughter on both sides of her family, is very closely surrounded by adult extended-family members on an almost-daily basis, and has a mother who is so worried about low self-esteem that she cheers on everything her child does. While I think all of this is great, most people that will be at this party do not know my child, will not understand her quirky, loud, insane habits that we think are just adorable and so heartily encourage. Of this I am sure, and it begins to scare me that they.will.not.like.her. By they I mean the other parents, natch. Sure enough, halfway through the first scary story about a witch, Ryan starts shrieking in mock-fear every time the witch cackles. Every time. At about the 4th shriek, I begin to whisper her name to get her to cut it out, in fear of the other parents' disapproval of my child, when I am stopped short by the sounds of the other kids laughing and the sight of them looking at her while doing so. Mother of God, they are laughing at her. My worst fear has come true and she is only 3. She will be a social outcast for the rest of her life. But then, I notice that she knows they are laughing at her, which it seems is why she is doing it. Doh! Double Doh!! My second-worst fear has now come true: she is JUST LIKE HER MOTHER.

Oh, this should be fun.